


Just Keep Watching

by Ride4812



Series: Prompts/Requests [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, First Meeting, M/M, Mickey's hot, Obsessed Ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 19:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ride4812/pseuds/Ride4812
Summary: Ian sees a gorgeous man in the club and he knows he has to have him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Polina on her birthday!  
> May all your wishes come true.

Day 1:

The first time Ian saw him was on Friday the 13th. He'd never been a superstitious person but the moment he laid eyes on him he knew that the legend that the particular day was unlucky could be wholly debunked. Everything about him was bewitching, from the swagger of his walk to the nervous ticks he subtly displayed. It took barely ten minutes until the redhead found himself completely under his spell. 

The lights of the club strobed and spun, trying to pull his gaze away, but he kept it locked, watching as the man flipped a business card between tattooed fingers. Flashes of color intermittently illuminated the pale skin of his face, unable to alter the gorgeous blue hue of his incredible eyes. Even from two table lengths away, Ian could see pain and depth underneath his stare. He wanted to know his story, to learn what caused him suffering and what brought him joy. 

The man unlocked his phone to look at a text message and Ian couldn't help but wonder who it was from. When his top teeth bit into his lower lip, Ian stopped perseverating on the intensity of a deep, soulful connection and started thinking of a balls deep interaction. Holy shit did he want to fuck the hell out of him. He'd grab him by the neck while he took him from behind, slamming his ass until he screamed his name. Ian had slept with enough men to know when a guy would be good in bed and from the delicious way his crush licked his full, dick sucking lips to his very obvious 'who gives a fuck' attitude, Ian knew he'd be a beast between the sheets. He looked like he smelled good and fucked better. Needing to know, Ian stood up from the stool he'd been sitting on and began to walk towards him, discouraged when a tall, dark, handsome man got there first. Immediately aborting his mission, he retreated back to his chair and sighed, his fingers tapping anxiously on his thigh.

Peeling his eyes away him for long enough to survey the room, he noticed that he and 'tall, dark, handsome' dude weren't the only guys that had taken an interest in the mystery man. Several of the regular patrons were very obviously eyeing him down as well, causing Ian to feel strangely possessive as a result. He wasn't just fresh meat, he was a fucking filet and Ian had to taste him, consume him. 

He watched as 'tall, dark, handsome' rested an elbow on his crush's table and attempted to disarm him with a thousand-watt smile. As charming as the man seemed to be, his crush wasn't showing any interest, turning his eyes from his gaze and shaking his head at his words. When the pushy suitor didn't take the hint, his crush raised his eyebrows and looked him straight in the face. Though Ian was too far away to hear his words, the sentiment was clear. 'Tall, dark, handsome' seemed taken aback by the brashness but his crush was nonplussed, turning his attention to his phone as if the man in pursuit no longer existed. He waited until his admirer sulked away to drain the remaining liquid from his glass, belch, shove his phone back into his pocket and stand up.

"Thanks for coming, Mickey," The heavily tattooed blond bartender called to the brunet man when he noticed he was heading out. In response his crush, 'Mickey,' threw his middle finger up in the air and gave him a shit eating grin. As soon as Mickey flipped the bird, Ian's pounding heart tumbled to his stomach and he fell in love. It took every ounce of control he could muster not to grab his crush's elbow and plant a kiss on those puffy pillow lips as he passed by. He subconsciously bit his lip as his eyes drifted over his shoulder to admire how fucking stacked Mickey's perfect ass looked in his dress pants. Goddamn.

Day 2: 

It had been 24 hours since he last saw Mickey and he couldn't get him out of his head. He'd tried to refocus his energy by going for a run, meeting a few friends for lunch and playing hours of video games with Carl, all to no avail. Nothing was able to pull his mind from the man that had captivated him the night before. Against his better judgment he headed back to the Fairy Tail, hoping that Mickey would be there too. When he first started hitting the club scene a few years ago, he'd promised himself that he wouldn't go more than once a week in an effort not to look like a trolling fuckboy. Now, he didn't give a shit, he had to see him again. 

He did a few laps around the room, sat on a barstool and scoped out the VIP, all without success. After a few hours and a couple of beers, he made his way to the bar where the blond tattooed bartender was slinging drinks. 

"What can I get for ya, Red?" The bartender asked, sliding a napkin in front of Ian.

Ian hadn't thought through what he was going to say, so he stood there lamely for a moment while the other man looked at him skeptically. 

"You alright?" He questioned, a worried look crossing over his face. 

Ian nodded, "Yeah, uh... that guy Mickey... he your friend?"

"Mmmhmm," He nodded, standing up and folding his arms over his chest. Ian was getting the impression that he wasn't the first guy to ask him about Mickey. 

"What's his deal?"

The bartender narrowed his eyes, shook his head and let out a wry laugh, "That's never gonna happen."

The reaction took Ian by surprise. He wasn't used to being rejected, especially by proxy, "Does he have a boyfriend?" Ian pressed, feeling panic rise in this throat at the prospect.

"He doesn't have a boyfriend but he's not gonna go for some clean cut north side dude," He stated, beginning to wipe down the deep mahogany bar top. 

"I'm south side."

"Yeah?" The bartender looked surprised and then shrugged as if it didn't matter anyway, "Good luck getting a chance to tell him that."

The sting caused Ian to slink away from the bar and do one last scan of the perimeter before leaving the club feeling defeated. 

Day 9:

Ian had shown up at the Fairy Tail every night since the 13th with hopes that Mickey would be there. He promised himself that if he didn't see him that weekend, he'd stop going. He was tired from long days at work followed by late nights at the club. The fact that he hadn't spotted Mickey was disheartening to say the least. He felt like a stalker and was pretty sure that the blond tattooed bartender thought he was one. 

He sat down at his regular high top while his eyes searched the room. He'd convinced himself when he finally saw him again, his flesh and bones would pale in comparison to the fantasy that he'd created in his brain. He was astonished when he realized that Mickey was even more gorgeous than he'd remembered. The brunet was weaving through the crowd, making his way to the bar so he could lean over the counter and greet his friend with a handshake/half hug combo. He was dressed like he'd come from work in charcoal grey pants and a black collared shirt. Ian wondered what he did that had him burning the midnight oil. The bartender slid him a whiskey on the rocks then turned to serve other patrons while Mickey leaned his back against the bar, sipped his drink and took in the scene. Ian was about to get up from his stool and approach him, but an older man slid in first. He was close enough to the bar to hear the exchange:

"Can I buy you a drink?" The older man asked, giving Mickey a lecherous look.

"Got one."

The man cleared his throat and tried again, "How about we dance?"

Mickey kept didn't even turn his face towards him when he replied, "Don't dance."

"We could just talk then," He relented, grasping at straws.

"How about you just fuck off instead?" Mickey suggested, looking dead in the older man's eyes with a contemptuous sneer, "That sound good?"

With his tail between his legs the older man drew back, spanked by the rejection. Ian found himself growing increasingly intimidated by Mickey due to the brashness of the rebuffing. He'd never lacked confidence when it came to guys, but Mickey stripped him of any arrogance he may have otherwise possessed. Ian was handsome physical therapist with a nice apartment and a huge cock. He knew he was a catch, but something about Mickey made him feel unworthy. 

When Mickey put his empty glass down and made his way to the bathroom, Ian followed. He had no idea what the fuck he was going to do, but knew he had to try something. As he stood next to him at the urinals, he realized that this tactic may not have been the most effective. It was generally frowned upon and moderately creepy to strike up a conversation with a dude while they took a leak, yet he didn't want to waste the opportunity. He pulled his dick out a bit further than necessary and coughed loudly, hoping that it would draw Mickey's eyes to his junk. He was a show-er and a grow-er, so he knew that his shit would look impressive even when it was flaccid. The brunet didn't so much as glance his way, so Ian coughed again. In the middle of his third fake coughing fit, Mickey zipped up, washed his hands quickly and exited the bathroom, leaving Ian with his cock in his hand, feeling as though he'd reached a whole new low.

Still, he shook off and made his way back out to the main floor, searching the room for Mickey. He was nowhere to be found. Disheartened, Ian had one more drink and headed home.

Day 15:

Since there didn't seem to be any specific pattern to the nights Mickey turned up at the club, Ian had continued his nightly excursion. He was growing increasingly exhausted and irritable. He'd been jerking off frequently with the image of that bubble butt, body, eyes and lips in his mind but he hadn't been able to relish in the release, always wanting more, wanting him. 

When Ian caught sight of his ex-boyfriend, Bryant, he was pretty sure the night wasn't going to go his way. He drained his beer and quickly ordered another.

"Gonna do your stakeout sloshed tonight, Red?" The blonde tattooed bartender teased. Over the past several nights, Ian and Tim had gotten to talking and both came to the understanding that the other was an alright guy. 

"Fuck you," Ian laughed and chugged his beer, "My ex is here."

"Where?" Tim asked curiously. 

Ian gestured over to a few guys standing by a nearby table, "Green pants," He stated.

Tim looked over at the tall, tanned man, with well coifed dusty blond hair and a preppy pink shirt on, "He a golfer or something?" He inquired with a snicker.

"Yup."

"Wait, he really is?" Tim howled as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

"He's got two PGA championships and countless shitty qualities," Ian replied, sliding his empty bottle towards Tim, "One more."

Tim tisked gently and shook his head as he grabbed the beer for Ian. The redhead was trying to sink into the bar top and become invisible when Bryant approached him, "Long time no see, Ian."

"That was purposeful," He replied plainly, glaring into his grey eyes.

"Ugh, c'mon babe. Do you always have to be so dramatic?" Bryant chided, laying a hand on Ian's knee, which the redhead promptly knocked off. 

"Not your problem anymore," He reminded him with a shrug, gulping down a good amount of his beer.

"You know it turns me on when you're a bitchy twink," Bryant said, licking his lips, "My feisty redhead."

"Call me that again and I'll kick your ass," Ian warned, his green eyes full of fire. He glanced over Bryant's shoulder surprised to see that Mickey had taken a seat at a table just behind them. Ian called Tim over to ask for a "whiskey on the rocks." The bartender looked at him dubiously but started to pour.

"So south side," Bryant mocked, taking a sip of his amaretto sour and regarding Ian with a smirk, "Dance with me"

"Not happening." Ian's head felt light as the beer he'd consumed rushed through his bloodstream to intoxicate him. 

"C'mon," He prodded, looping his arm around Ian's waist, "One dance."

"I have a fucking boyfriend," Ian spat, grabbing the whiskey and pushing past Bryant. 

"Oh yeah?" He laughed in response, not believing Ian's declaration. The smile immediately faded from his face when he saw Ian place the whiskey in front of an incredibly attractive man that was sitting at a high table alone.

"Got this for you," Ian stated, feeling his heart thumping hard in his chest. A silent chant of 'please don't kill me," repeated in his head as he leaned over and slotted his mouth against Mickey's for a tender kiss. Shockwaves of electricity lit up every synapse in his body at the connection. His breath hitched when he felt Mickey's hand rest on his cheek and his tongue slide into his mouth, deepening the kiss. Completely overwhelmed by the reciprocation, Ian stood there lamely, arms by his side. When Mickey put his free hand on Ian's other cheek and kissed him harder, the redhead sprung to life tilting his head to the side so he could run his tongue across Mickey's bottom teeth. He captured the brunet's tongue and began to slowly suck on it like it was his dick, drawing a soft, needy moan out of him. Ian didn't think he'd ever heard a sexier sound and he was very curious what other salacious noises he could get him to make. As they continued to kiss, Ian placed his hands on the sitting man's hips and nudged his knee so he'd straddle his legs, allowing Ian to move in tighter to his body. The height of Mickey's stool brought him to the optimal level for Ian to rut his hard-on against the brunet's groin. When they were both entirely robbed of their breath, Ian pulled back, gulped and stared into amused blue eyes.

"Should punch you in your fucking face," Mickey stated, biting his lower lip and raising his eyebrows. 

"Why didn't you?" Ian breathed, knowing that there were hundreds of things he could've said that would've been more alluring and smooth, but unable to think of any of them. He was unable to think at all.

"Got a pretty one. It'd be a shame to fuck it up," He replied, placing his thumb and index finger on the redhead's chin and pressing a kiss onto his lips. 

Ian was so dumbfounded he was sure that if Mickey asked him his name, he wouldn't remember it. Unfortunately, his memory was jogged by a familiar voice exclaiming, "Really, Ian? Right in front of me?"

"Boyfriend?" Mickey asked against his lips.

"Ex," Ian replied.

Mickey just laughed at the absurdity of it all and continued to kiss him. 

"He's got FUCK U UP tattooed on his fingers?! Should've known that my little piece of south side trash would go for another one," Bryant scoffed.

Before Ian could turn to respond, Mickey peeled his lips away from the kiss and snarled, "You wanna fucking die," complete with the cracking of his knuckles and a challenge on his face. Bryant scurried away like the pussy he was and Ian just stared at Mickey like he had rainbows shooting out of his ass, "Alright. He's gone. You can go too," He said simply, lifting the glass Ian had brought to him to his lips and taking a swig. 

"Uhhh... huh?" Ian muttered, looking flabbergasted.

"Not really the talkative type, huh?" Mickey replied flicking the pad of his finger against the side of his nostril, "Wanted to get your man jealous, we did, now you can fuck off."

"But... but that k-k-iss," Ian stuttered.

"Don't mean we're gonna spread out a blanket and look for shooting stars," He informed him wryly, "Anything else?" 

The words were barely out of Mickey's mouth when Ian pushed his lips against it again. Though at first Mickey didn't settle into the kiss, he eventually let himself go, exploring Ian's mouth with abandon, "I've been watching you," Ian confessed, pupils blown with want, "since I first saw you... I just kept watching you... kept looking for you."

"I know," Mickey said, licking his lips before licking past Ian's. He cradled his hand around the back of Ian's skull and kissed him fervently, "Noticed you too," he admitted pulling back.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Ian asked, rubbing Mickey's side. He felt like he was in a dream. He was kissing Mickey, touching Mickey, talking to Mickey -this man who'd overtaken his thoughts for the last two weeks.

"You're funny as hell man. Kept doing all that dumbass shit. Hacking up your lung in the pisser so I'd look at that fucking arm you got in your pants, staring at me with stupid googly eyes, asking my boy about me," Mickey laughed, "Wanted to see what other bullshit you'd come up with."

Ian glanced at Tim who shrugged and shook his head with a chuckle. Ian gave him the finger in response, his cheeks flushing pink. 

"Every night, huh? You a fucking psycho or somethin'? Gonna try to cut off my dick and feed it to me?" Mickey asked with a smirk "cause if you think you are... I fucking wouldn't. Got more glocks than you got inches. You understand?"

Ian swallowed hard and nodded. He wasn't sure if he was more terrified or turned on, "I wanna fuck you. Don't wanna kill you."

"That's your pick up line? Weeks of this shit and that's what you're gonna go with?" Mickey questioned, raising his eyebrows, "That you wanna fuck me?" 

Ian shrugged, "Depends if it's gonna work or not, I guess," He pressed his lips against Mickey's once again, feeling some of his lost confidence resurface. Mickey was a shit-talker. He needed to go toe to toe with him, give it right back, "Is it working?"

Mickey grabbed Ian's wrist and placed his hand on top of the bulging erection his pants were straining to contain, "Does it feel like it's working?" 

"Wanna taste that," Ian whispered, licking his lips salaciously, "can we get outta here?"

"Your place or mine, Gallagher?" Mickey asked, taking Ian by surprise.

"How'd you know my last name?" Ian questioned.

"You give Tim your credit card every night, man," The brunet replied matter-of-factly.

"So you've been asking about me too then?" Ian smirked, rubbing Mickey's erection over his pants. 

Realizing he'd said too much, the brunet scoffed and told him to, "Fuck off." He stood up and threw a couple of bucks down on the table, "My place is close."

They had just started to head out of the club when they heard Tim exclaim from behind the bar, "Hallelujah! Fucking finally."

Mickey threw up his finger and Ian laughed, following the shorter man out the door, "He told me you wouldn't be into me," Ian stated, "We walking?" 

Mickey nodded. 

"Why'd he say that?" Ian pressed.

The brunet shrugged, "Sure he's got his reasons," he replied vaguely. He lit up a cigarette and offered it to Ian before lighting another for himself.

"You date him or something?" Ian asked taking a drag and blowing the smoke into the crisp night air. He'd never considered it, but he wondered if he should have. The idea of Mickey being in a relationship with anyone but him boiled his blood. He didn't understand what it was that drew him so intensely to the other man, but he'd never felt that type of connection before.

"I don't date... I mostly just fuck," Mickey said simply. Noticing Ian's disappointment he felt compelled to add, "but I never fucked him." He dropped his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out before pulling open the sleek glass door of a high rise apartment building. 

For some reason the lack of screwing around with Tim made him feel slightly better. He took one last drag of his cigarette, stubbed it in the ashtray by the door and followed Mickey through the lobby of his building. The elevator ride up to the apartment was full of sidelong glances and sneaky smiles. 

"This is really nice," Ian commented as they entered Mickey's place. It was spacious with surprisingly high ceilings and a full wall of windows that opened up to the city below. The decor was understated and far from fussy, with an oversized grey couch and cream walls. 

"It's alright," He said, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and tossing it onto the small table in the entry, "Close to work."

"What d'you do?" Ian questioned. The location and size of the apartment indicated that whatever Mickey did, he was successful at it.

"Finance," He stated with a sniff, "you wanna chit-chat more or you wanna get on me?" A huge grin spread across Ian's face as Mickey led him into his bedroom. The brunet started to unbutton his shirt, but Ian gently knocked his hands away and took over the task. "So we're gonna take our time, huh?" 

"Mmmhmm," Ian hummed, sliding the shirt off Mickey's shoulders and then pulling his wife beater off, "Holy fuck," he shook his head in disbelief at the perfection of Mickey's broad shoulders, wide chest and muscular arms, "Been dreaming about this body, man. Gonna fucking worship it," Ian informed him, kissing his way down his torso before dropping to his knees. 

"Oh yeah?" Mickey cleared his throat and licked his lips as Ian unbuckled his belt and unzipped his zipper, "How're you gonna do that?" 

"Give you the best head of your life," Ian stated, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes before tugging down his pants and boxers. His mouth began to water at the sight of Mickey's exemplary cock, standing firm and proud. 

"Good luck with that," Mickey dared, scratching his chin.

Ian just licked his lips knowingly, wrapping his wet, hot mouth around the head of Mickey's cock. From the start his technique was insane, flooding Mickey with a mixture of sensations that he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before. He was twisting, hollowing his cheeks, lightly dragging teeth, lapping his tongue heavy, deep throating, and completely fucking destroying the brunet in the process. Mickey could feel his whole body vibrate as Ian worked him. Just when he thought he knew what the man would do next he would change it up, throw Mickey for a loop; ghosting over his balls, nipping at his thigh, tracing the the base of his cock with his tongue while Mickey's tip was brushing against the back of his throat. He sucked cock like he was made for it, "I gotta fucking lay down," Mickey said, his legs too shaky to stand on any longer. He laid back on the bed and Ian hovered over him with cocky eyes, red puffy lips and the naughtiest fucking smirk Mickey had ever seen, "Smug motherfucker," he chided without malice.

"Gotta reason to be," Ian retorted, clicking his tongue. 

"Yeah, you're not bad," Mickey conceded, laughing as Ian rolled his eyes. "Show me what other reasons you got to be cocky."

Ian smiled and made quick work of getting himself undressed. 

"Goddamn," Mickey muttered, looking over Ian's cut body, with all its chiseled dips and definitions. He scooted his way up to the head of the bed so his back was pressed up against the wall, needing to get the full view. 

"Pretty cocky about this," Ian said with a nonchalant shrug, beginning to stroke his thick, long dick. He saw Mickey's cock twitch in response, "You like it? Wanna taste it?"

"Mmmm, yeah I do," Mickey confirmed as Ian stood up on the bed and straddled him. He waved his cock in front of the brunet's face as he tried to catch the teasing tip with his outstretched tongue.

"Want do you want?" Ian asked, guiding the head of his dick to Mickey's tongue. He pressed against it with a good bit of pressure then lifted up and stretched a rivulet of precum from Mickey's mouth to his cock. Mickey curled his tongue so he could try to catch it all, "Cumslut, huh? Never would've guessed."

"Want more," Mickey said softly, sticking his tongue out again in anticipation.

"What do you want?" Ian teased, pumping his dick a few times as he looked at Mickey's waiting mouth, more than ready for him. He was surprised and turned the fuck on by Mickey's uncharacteristic submissiveness in bed. He found himself becoming more obsessed with the man by the moment, "Tell me."

"Fuck my face," Mickey whispered, his cheeks flushing pink, shy to admit what he wanted. 

"You like that?" Ian asked, adjusting himself so his knees were by Mickey's ear, "Think you can take it all?"

"Know I can," Mickey assured him, grasping tightly into Ian's bare ass cheeks and pulling him forward.

"Gonna be relentless," Ian warned. 

"Fucking do it" Mickey practically growled, growing increasingly impatient.

Ian lined his cock up to Mickey's mouth and pushed in, inch by inch the way he would if he was breaching his ass. He threw his head back and moaned at the feeling of warmth that was surrounding him. He started to roll his hips at a slow pace, and Mickey braced himself for what was about to come, "Like to get your face fucked. How about your ass? Do you like to get your ass fucked too?" Mickey nodded and hummed around Ian's cock and the redhead moaned in response. He was going to fucking marry this man, "Gonna pound your face and then your ass, alright?"

"Mmm," Mickey responded the best he could with Ian's cock laying weighty and delicious on his tongue. Ian started to move quicker and push in deeper, letting the tip of his dick hit the back of Mickey's throat. The brunet was focusing on Ian's taste, willing himself not to gag.

Just as he said he would, Ian started to drive in more brutally and Mickey felt moisture gather in his eyes as he tried to keep himself together. "You good?" Ian asked breathless, continuing his thrusting. His fingers were pulling at Mickey's hair, guiding his head back and forth on him.

Mickey moaned around his cock, rubbing his hand on Ian's ass to assure him.

"Good," Ian groaned, "That fucking mouth, holy shit. Got the best mouth." He continued to to fuck his face feeling his balls slap rhythmically against Mickey's chin. Just when he was building up to a fervor, he slowed down, knowing that he had to stop or the night would be over before it ever really started. He pulled out of his mouth and gave him a sheepish grin as Mickey protested the loss, "Gonna cum if we keep it up."

"The fucks wrong with that?" Mickey groused, his chin wet with a mixture of his spit and Ian's precum.

"Need to fuck you," Ian said squating down so he could shove his tongue into Mickey's mouth. The kiss was sloppy and wet, both of them desperate for the other man's taste. Mickey sighed when Ian pulled away and slid down his body, gasping out a "fuck" when he grabbed behind his knees and pushed his legs up so his mouth could gain full access to his ass. Ian wasted no time lapping and swirling at his rim, causing the tight muscles to twitch then loosen in pleasure. Mickey felt his legs shake as Ian fucked into his hole with his tongue. In response to his trembles, Ian held Mickey's legs tighter and narrowed his tongue to push in deeper. 

"Oh fuck," Mickey moaned as Ian continued to expertly open him with his tongue.

He could hear a muffled laugh coming from the redhead, but he didn't fucking care. It felt so damn good. Ian continued to eat him like he was starving and Mickey unapologetically whined and moaned like a bitch. "I'm ready," Mickey groaned begin to squirm under Ian's pressure.

He kept licking and pressing causing Mickey to gasp with each pass, "Ready," he whined again, smacking Ian's head, "Get the fuck in me" another laugh from Ian earned another smack from Mickey.

Ian leaned up to nip at Mickey's lower lip. "Fuck you're hot," he whispered before slotting his mouth against Mickey's again. Mickey reciprocated the kiss eyes partially open so he could watch Ian adjust his body so he could could arch over him like a cat. 

The redhead couldn't get enough of the man below him. His presence was intoxicating and Ian felt like he was getting higher just from the heat radiating off of him. He was overwhelming in the best possible way.

Mickey pulled away from the kiss so he could reach into the top drawer of his nightstand and hand Ian the lube, "I'm good. Just put some on that fucking monster." He rolled over so he could push up on his hands and knees.

Ian bit back his smirk and messily rubbed lube over himself before slapping his cock against Mickey's ass, "No rubber?" He asked, pleasantly surprised. 

"I'm clean," Mickey said simply, "You?" 

Ian nodded, "Yup and you're not gonna be fucking anyone after me, so we're all good."

"I'm not?" Mickey chuckled at the assumption, "I don't know if you're cute or fucking creepy as hell, Gallagher."

Ian grinned and lined himself up to Mickey's hole. He didn't waste any time pushing into him. "Fuck," Mickey groaned as Ian's cock filled him up, stretching him in a way he had never been stretched before. He choked back a surprised laugh as Ian bottomed out, "Holy shit," he gasped dropping his head down between his shoulders so his forehead was resting on the mattress. He panted as Ian shimmied his hips from side to side to make more space for himself. "So fucking full."

"You gonna be able to take it," Ian asked, with both seduction and challenge dripping from his tone. He began to roll his hips slowly. "Or am I gonna have to take it easy on you? Fuck you sweet and slow?" He was teasing him now. 

"I can fucking take it," Mickey assured him, "Pound me hard." He took a deep breath, preparing to get rocked.

"You asked for it," Ian stated as he snapped his hips hard into Mickey. He pulled out to his tip only to slam back into him, deep and penetrating. Mickey was writhing underneath him as Ian started to rail him at a toe curling pace. He grabbed onto Mickey's hips digging his fingers in hard so he could get the leverage he needed to hit his prostate. He kept up a brutal pace boring into Mickey's prostate relentlessly with measured pulses. He dragged his fingernails down the pale skin of Mickey's back, leaving angry red scratches and the brunet to fall apart at the sensation.

"You're ass is so good," Ian growled watching as Mickey gripped onto the sheets so tightly that his tattooed knuckles were strained. He moved his hands up so he could grab onto Mickey's shoulder and drive his dick in even deeper. Much to Ian's surprise Mickey started to push back on him aggressively, angling down so his full ass cheeks could hit against Ian's balls with every thrust. Ian moaned at the sensation, "Holy shit, can you fuck," he crooned.

Mickey continued to meet Ian's hips, clenching his ass around Ian's cock with every push, wanting to prove to him how good of a fuck he was. Ian's body started to shiver from the sensation, his pace beginning to slow and become more erratic, less measured, "Like that, huh?" Mickey purred looking over his shoulder at Ian with beguiling eyes.

"Mmm" Ian hummed letting Mickey take control, rolling his hips back on Ian's cock, "Get on top of me. C'mon.. want you to ride me," He directed, spanking Mickey's ass.

The brunet obliged, turning Ian over so he could lower himself down onto his dick, "So good," He groaned, "Such a perfect cock." 

"All yours. Want it to be yours," Ian panted as Mickey started to ride him skillfully, rolling his hips just the way Ian liked it. His body was trembling under Mickey's sexy form.

"We'll see, you freak," Mickey breathed leaning forward to shove his tongue into Ian's mouth as he gyrated on his lap. They were melting into each other's mouths, all tongue, lust, heat. When they were both robbed of their breath Mickey pulled back. 

"Sit back," Ian said softly. Mickey leaned back so his cock was angled up towards the ceiling. The redhead took a tight hold on Mickey's hips and started to surge up into him, causing the man above him to shiver with pleasure and breathe out broken curses. Ian couldn't take his eyes off of how Mickey's cock that was bouncing and bobbing with the force, "Forward now," he prompted.

He did as he was told and moaned appreciatively when Ian shoved his middle and index fingers into his mouth, "Love it" Mickey garbled, mouth full.

"You like to be full everywhere, don't you baby?" Ian crooned as he rolled his hips up into Mickey. The brunet was taken aback by the term of end and surprised he didn't hate it. He nodded and on sucking on Ian's fingers, enjoying how he hooked them around and ran them over his teeth so he could chase after him, "Fucking hot." He dropped his hand to Mickey's leaking cock and began to pump him at the same pace that he was fucking into him at, "You're close ... dripping all over. Gonna give it to me? Cum on me?"

Mickey nodded, whining when Ian swiveled his hips a bit so he could hit his prostate, "Want your cum and I'll give you mine," he promised giving him a coy smirk around his fingers. He used his strong thighs so support his body as he bounced up and down on Ian's cock.

"Cumslut," Ian laughed, dropping his head back on he pillow and biting his lips, "You want it?"

"Fucking bad," Mickey confirmed, continuing his pace. 

Ian began to pull apart underneath of him, moaning loudly. As soon as Mickey felt the gush of warmth shoot deep inside of him, his body started to quake, his own release imminent. He dropped his hand to his cock and jerked himself off, feeling the rise and swell of his orgasm. He blew his load onto Ian's chest with a guttural groan and collapsed into a heap on top of him. They laid there in silence for a while, allowing their hands to idly explore arms, elbows and backs.

"You goin' back to the club tomorrow night? Don't wanna break your streak," Mickey said, tracing his fingers tip up Ian's bicep.

"Nah, found who I was looking for. I'm gonna be right here," Ian informed him with a goofy grin.

"Oh are you now?" Mickey asked pushing up so he could look into Ian's eyes with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

"Mmmhmm," Ian assured him pressing their lips together.

And for the rest of their days, he was.


End file.
